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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709151">No Way Out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBraillebarian/pseuds/TheBraillebarian'>TheBraillebarian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Triumvirate [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Metalocalypse (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, F/M, Light Dom/sub, M/M, No Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:09:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBraillebarian/pseuds/TheBraillebarian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus talks with Abigail after everything and nothing goes the way they expect.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abigail Remeltindtdrinc/Toki Wartooth/Magnus Hammersmith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Triumvirate [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Way Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Found this sort of old thing in my drafts and if I'm going to take this trip to hell it's got to start somewhere, so...all aboard!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You's goins to let her dos whatever she wants to you's."</p><p> </p><p>The room is sparse, a windowless interrogation office somewhere in the bowels of Mordhaus. A table bolted to one stone wall, three chairs, dim lights. Toki is giving him a stern look which Magnus would not have taken seriously in another life, had not taken seriously until it was the hook that dragged him back from death's edge.</p><p> </p><p>"Magnus?" brows furrowing ever so slightly.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, buddy," he sighs, shrugs. "Whatever you want. Whatever she wants. Least I can do, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"She ams goins to hurt you's."</p><p> </p><p>Thin fingers dig into the old jeans he's wearing. "I know."</p><p> </p><p>"And you's going to lets her."</p><p> </p><p>Not a question. A truth impending.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah."</p><p> </p><p>"Goods!" The pall which had begun to settle in the room abruptly lifts. "Bes right backs!"</p><p> </p><p>The door squeals shut behind Toki, locking from the outside. Magnus scrubs his palms on the faded denim at his knees, picks a dark navy thread from the tshirt. The clothes are Toki's, who has enough old things that it doesn't matter if a shirt or two is torn or stained. The pants fit well enough. The shirt hangs off his narrower shoulders and chest. He runs his fingers over the pitted knot of scar tissue on his sternum, the only reminder of everything. Perhaps Toki will leave any new scars he is about to obtain, not that he is likely to forget today.</p><p> </p><p>He jumps in his seat, wild eyed, as the door shrieks open. Toki slips into a corner, only present enough to hold the door for the figure which emerges from the shadowed corridor. She's shorter than both men by at least a foot but her presence fills the space. Patient, utterly competent, no nonsense. Even chained in a dank basement he'd always felt like she had more control of the situation than he ever did, which turned out to be true in the end.</p><p> </p><p>"Hello, Abigail," he says not meeting her eye.</p><p> </p><p>"Magnus," the door clunks shut at her back, locks.</p><p> </p><p>"You're looking well," no sarcasm. Her color has returned from the sickly pallor she'd acquired under his lackluster care, hair shiny in its practical ponytail, simple white blouse holding a bit tightly to muscles that hadn't been there when first he'd met her.</p><p> </p><p>"Get up," she gestures and he obliges.</p><p> </p><p>Her head only comes up to his chest and a little smile is just forming on Magnus' lips when the wind is slammed out of him. He bends around her fist on instinct only to feel the sting of hands in his hair. The crack of his nose striking her knee whites out his vision and he's suddenly on the ground, the air being crushed from his diaphragm. His ears are ringing with the blows she rains down on his unprotected face. It's a lot like having the shit kicked out of him by Nathan, but where the big front man stopped after a few heavy blows, Abigail strikes fast and constant, hitting the same places repeatedly until his head feels pulped from the inside out. It takes a moment for Magnus to realize she's squeezing his neck, the ringing pain in his skull easing to a black speckled throb as he wheezes for breath. His hands are up in surrender, not once lifted to fend her off. All of her weight is crushing him down, preventing him from taking a full breath. A bead of sweat drips off her nose to land on his split lip and his tongue darts out to catch it.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh for fuck's sake!" she levers herself off him, hands crushing his throat for an instant, cracking his head on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>The borrowed jeans do nothing to hide the tent between his legs.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry," Magnus rasps as he rolls to one side, curling his long legs up out of politeness more than anything.</p><p> </p><p>Abigail drops into a vacant chair and screams into her bloodied hands. It's a very familiar kind of frustration to Magnus.</p><p> </p><p>"Of course it's like this," she groans to herself, hands smearing blood on her flushed cheeks as she slides them down to burn a hole in him with her gaze.</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry," he says again, something wretched and self loathing squirming in his guts.</p><p> </p><p>They stay quiet for a few moments, Toki idly tapping at his phone in the corner. Abigail catches her breath while Magnus listens to the blood from his broken nose drip onto the floor.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't even want to ask," she sighs. "Why now? You had all your chances then, could have done anything to us... Why?" She gestures in the vague direction of his crotch, lip curled.</p><p> </p><p>He swallows thickly, trying not to think about her in that awful place, kneeling in the filth. "It wasn't right then."</p><p> </p><p>She snorts. "Obviously."</p><p> </p><p>"No, it... you were, you are... too good for that shit hole. Not meant to be held down like that." She leans back, arms crossed over her sweat and blood spattered blouse, eyes burning. "I never wanted to be that kind of monster. Neither of you wanted me."</p><p> </p><p>Her lips part but she says nothing. Slowly, carefully, Magnus rolls to his knees and crawls toward her. He keeps his head down and stops with his hands splayed, shoulders bowed, hair curtaining him in darkness at her feet. Supplication, benediction.</p><p> </p><p>"No," she says somewhere between a curse and a plea. "Don't you fuck with me, Hammersmith!"</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He keeps his head down. “Is it easier if I say I like a firm hand? Like it to hurt?”</p><p> </p><p>The sound of her shoe scraping over stone makes him shiver, awaiting a kick. He remains prostrate at her feet until one pointed toe digs under his chin and forces him to look up into her face. His smile is weak, a helpless quirk of the lips that dribbles blood onto her shoe. It's not like he asked for this, either. She lets his head drop and wipes at her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Give me your hand."</p><p> </p><p>Uncertainly, Magnus levers himself into an awkward sitting position, head bowed and face turned away.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm going to break your fingers."</p><p> </p><p>He takes a deep breath and offers up his calloused and scarred left hand. He flinches and shakes as her palms cup his, gooseflesh rising over his arm. Her fingers are small, their touch gentle but firm as she extends his pinky all the way out, slowly eases it back. He breathes as slow and deep as he can, body trembling, eyes squeezed shut. She folds the finger back down and drops her hands into her lap, still imprisoning his in her grasp.</p><p> </p><p>"God damn it," she sniffles.</p><p> </p><p>"Abigails?" Toki is at her side immediately, arms wrapping around her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>"Why doesn't it feel any better?" she mumbles into his shirt. "I just wanted to beat the shit out of this asshole and be done with it!"</p><p> </p><p>"Ja," Toki gently strokes her hair. "It's what I's been tryings to tells you's. Revenge ams not a t'ing you's cans have."</p><p> </p><p>Magnus flinches then hesitantly rests his cheek on her knee and squeezes her hand in his. She rubs her thumb over his knuckles and cries. When her tears ease Toki asks:</p><p> </p><p>"You's dones with him now?"</p><p> </p><p>"No," she sounds wretched. "But I'm done kicking his ass for today."</p><p> </p><p>The younger man squeezes her shoulder before coming to crouch in front of Magnus.</p><p> </p><p>"You's beens a real good pal today, Magnus," he says solemnly. "Dis goings to hurts."</p><p> </p><p>A hand cups his bruised cheek and Magnus feels a burn behind his eyes. It builds into a pounding pressure, crushing the bones in his face and pressing at the flesh. He wants to puke, to scream as a thousand knives flense every nerve but all he can manage is a choked whimper. His nose pops and grinds back into place audibly and one tooth sinks its loosened root back into his gum with a white stab of pain. His neck feels crushed in a vice.</p><p> </p><p>And then it's done. Cold air traces the tears streaming down his face. He sniffs back a gob of snot and half dried blood through a nose clearer now than it had been before he'd walked into this room. Sheepish, he loosens the white knuckled grip on Abigail's hand; she doesn't let him go and her gaze is intent, thoughtful. Out of the corner of his good eye he watches Abigail lift a finger to his wet cheek. She traces a line from eye to the edge of his lip, gathering the salt and delicately placing it in her mouth. He groans softly and shifts his legs. Toki snorts and pats him on the head.</p><p> </p><p>“It's not a bad look on you,” Abigail sighs. “Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah," Magnus agrees, despondent.</p><p> </p><p>"Is nots easy, beings us," Toki says.</p><p> </p><p>"I'd like another hug." Abigail.</p><p> </p><p>Rising to his knees, Toki pulls them both into his strong embrace. Magnus holds Abigail's hand still, wrapping the other around Toki's ribs, face awkwardly but not unhappily squished between a knee and a hard chest. Abigail has her cheek resting on Toki's head, free arm gripping his muscled shoulders. Between them they hold Toki as tight as he holds them. It will have to do.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I yell about this show and post art sometimes at <a href="https://metalrat.tumblr.com/">metalrat</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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